


a hand of yours

by Crimson_Voltaire



Series: your voice inside my head [5]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe: No Magic, Comfort, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, New Years 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson_Voltaire/pseuds/Crimson_Voltaire
Summary: "For auld lang syne my friend, for auld lang  syne, we'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne..."---Modern AU where Percival sings - as requested on Tumblr.





	a hand of yours

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own. For Nix.

" _Should aulde acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind…_ ”

  
It’s just a whisper in her ear, really, a slow and crooning thing which tickles the shell of her ear and makes her shudder. She leans back into a warm embrace, relishing the way his arm snakes around hers, and he presses the flute of bubbly into her waiting hand.

  
Eager chatter fills the room, everyone getting ready for the big moment. They’re standing at the windows that serve as the wall out onto their balcony. From here, everyone can see as the crystal ball in Times Square lights up in a flare of white. All around it, lights flash and pulse – blues and greens and reds and purples. Beneath it all, Queenie swears she can hear the dull roar of the crowd. Percival’s heart beats steadily along with it.

  
“ _Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne…_ ”

  
Credence laughs – head thrown back, eyes wide with mirth. He’s probably the most eager of all of them, to sweep this year out the door and welcome in the new one. The short crop of his obsidian hair gleams in the soft yellow lamplight. The strobe lights in Times Square reflect in the glass and dance across his pale face. He looks so different than he did eleven months ago – starving and shell shocked. Now, he looks healthy, he looks happy, he looks like he’s healing.

Queenie smiles at him, when he catches her watching, and Credence’s happy grin blooms into something larger, something grander, splitting his face with joy. It makes Queenie’s heart warm.

  
“ _For auld lang syne, my jo, for auld lang syne…_ ”

  
Queenie intertwines her fingers with Percival’s, over her stomach. Like that, pressed back against his chest, Queenie can feel the words reverberating through him. They rumble out like waves of water, washing through Queenie and carrying her attention back to the rich timbre of his voice. It truly is beautiful, she thinks. Percival doesn’t sing often, and only very quietly, but Queenie adores it. She drinks in every note, every breath he takes, feeling the brush of his lips and reveling in this night, this moment, this very instant.

  
There’s a flash nearby – Tina’s face morphing into something like guilt and then delight as she renders their moment immortal on her phone. Newt too, is grinning at them as he peers over Tina’s shoulder to see the picture for himself. Queenie rolls her eyes, and then glances out the window again. The ball’s starting to drop. Down, on the streets below, the crowd begins to surge forward, a great tidal wave pushing, pushing, pushing towards the shore, towards a new day and a new year – new opportunities, new hope. In their flat, this little family follows, converging into a semi-circle around Queenie and Percival.

  
10

  
They say the words aloud, as is tradition. Queenie begins to ready her glass, her fingers squeezing Percival’s tighter. She couldn’t be more happy than she is right now, she thinks.

  
9

  
8

  
7

  
The crowd begins to cheer. The energy is contagious – rippling through New York – a shockwave of anticipation and excitement.

  
6

  
5

  
Queenie cranes her head up to look at Percival. He isn’t watching the lights, or the ball, he’s watching her, adoration shining in his eyes. It steals her breath away for a moment, she swears.

  
4

  
3

  
2

  
1

  
“Happy new year, darling,” he murmurs, face splitting into the softest and fondest of smiles. Queenie surges up, spinning in his arms to give him a proper kiss. Her glass clinks with his lightly, a cheery sound echoing through the flat as their lips meet.

  
“Happy new year, baby, here’s to many more.”

  
Newt and Tina are sharing a kiss, and Credence turns to clink his glass against Queenie and Percival’s.

  
“Here’s to many more,” Percival repeats.  
Later, when everyone is gone, and Queenie is getting ready for bed, Percival comes up behind her again. Both arms wrap around her this time, and he ghosts the length of her shoulder with his lips.

  
“ _For auld lang syne, my jo, for auld lang syne… We’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld, lang, syne…_ ”


End file.
